Too Long Away
by Lelila Solo
Summary: This is my challenge reply to the DecJan challenge on HSP, Han and Leia have been apart for two years...


Looking up from his drink and his friend's good natured jokes, he caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar face and familiar laughter reached his ears. Excusing himself from the table, he walked the perimeter of the banquet hall, winding in and out of the myriad of people that had turned out for the military banquet. His eyes anxiously searched out the face to whom that voice belonged. A face he had not seen in nearly two years. The knowledge that she would most likely be here had passed through his mind unnoticed when he had agreed to come out for this party. But then again, why had he not expected it? She was the Chief of State, and as such turned out for all formal gatherings, if this hall full of a bunch of rowdy military personnel could be referred to as that. He caught his next glimpse of her as she moved away from the concentrated mass around the dance floor, escorted by a young man dressed in black with sandy colored hair. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, a vision he never dared believe he would see again. It was a feeling akin to the one he had felt the first time he had flown, when he was but a mere orphan of twelve or thirteen years old. He had to stifle a laugh, remembering when he had been barely able to see over the control panel. Gathering up what courage he could, he slowly made his way towards her, meandering through the crowd once again.

Her black dress flowed past her knees, kissing the floor, and allowing a quick view of the black heels that graced her feet, raising her a few inches to give the appearance of some kind of height. Her hair was swept up in a simple yet elegant bun with a few tendrils of auburn framing her cheeks, gentling the features that were hardened from years of struggle, politics, and grief. Her smile was wide and beautiful as she spoke to the young man beside her, a man he still could not recognize as any he had seen before. He stopped beside, and slightly behind, her and touched her arm, she abruptly ended the conversation and turned to face the intruder.

She did not recognize the man standing before her, and doubted she had ever seen him before in her life. Dressed up in the black military suit of a general, complete with insignia, freshly shaven, hair tamed; she would have never known who graced her presence had he not spoken. She was taken aback when recognition finally hit her. His low-slung blaster was missing, along with his white shirt and black vest. There was no bloodstripe running up the sides of his black slacks. His customary lopsided grin was not plastered to his handsome face, instead a sincere smile graced his lips as he asked her for a dance. She began to balk at his request and refuse his offered arm. With a nudge from the man she had been formerly talking to, she tensely agreed. The man walked off to find another companion to talk to, and he finally recognized him as her brother. She took his arm and he led her through the dense congregated mass of military and political persons to the polished dance floor, where a band was playing slow music to fill the background of the party. Several other couples had also taken to the idea and taken advantage of what else this banquet had to offer.

"The Kid has grown up," he said.

"That he has," she replied coolly. Though her demeanor would suggest otherwise, her heart was racing and she felt as if she would collapse on the spot. Two years ago he had left. She had neither seen nor heard of or from him in as much time. The military never reported him missing; the IPSS never alerted that his ship was missing. Not after Otholis. The last thing he had said to her had cut her, not unlike things from former arguments, 'I should have known not to trust a politician!' Then the newscast that he had died; she had cried everyday for two weeks, until another newscast stating that he had been spotted on Otholis. He wasn't dead, but they had never said a word to each other since that night. Those who were delighted to find out about the breakup went out of their way to extremes to make sure they never got back together. At several press conferences she had brushed passed any concept referring him, dutifully dismissing them with much more hostility than necessary.

They reached the floor and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer than she thought she would ever get to him again. Hesitantly, she placed her hands on his broad shoulders, and a sensation flowed through her when she felt the well-known muscle beneath the fabric of his uniform suit. "Come on Princess, we owe each other."

Taking up the gentle sway of the music emanating from the band stand at the front of the banquet hall, she began to relax and feel as if no time had passed. She began to feel as if they had never been disunited. Her hands slid together behind his neck, her head rested against his shoulder as she surrendered herself to the embrace. His cheek found itself against her hair as he stared over her shoulder at the going-ons around him. He never noticed her head lift from his shoulder so that she could settle her gaze on him. "You said we owed each other this," she said softly.

Somewhere in his mind it registered that she was speaking to him. He lowered his gaze to meet hers, expecting and waiting for her to continue. The look in her eyes told him she wanted to say something, to say more. He waited, letting his eyes drift down to her lips before meeting her gaze again. He watched her raise her head slightly, offering and enticing him to kiss her, giving him the invitation she believed he needed and he so desperately wanted. Conflicting interests kept him from accepting her invitation immediately, and he asked her with his eyes if that was what she really wanted. Her gaze held an underlying meaning as well. _Why won't you kiss me?_ they asked. When he did not respond, he felt pressure on the back of his neck, bringing his lips in contact with hers. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the contact he had been craving for years. The reaction from her seemed to mimic his, her back arched slightly, she tensed for a fleeting moment, before pressing herself into the kiss more fully.

"I think we owed each other that too," she said. Tears threatened to spill over, but she blinked them back. How was it that one kiss could turn her inside out and put the entirety of her emotions on display. "I missed you."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair.

"No I am," she started. "I didn't even try to—"

"Shh," he whispered, kissing along her jaw line. "You don't always have to be so brave, you know that."

"But I do," she said softly. "With you gone, I must, for my own sake."

"I hear you're still in the same place," he said, imploring her for permission to come back to the home he had wanted to return to for so long, permission he did not need and never needed. "Same code?"

"Why didn't you come home?" she answered his question with her own.

"I didn't think you wanted me to," he told her.

"Why the newscast?"

"It had nothing to do with you," he said. After prompting he continued, "After I left, I ran into some trouble, and being already hot-headed, I made it worse. I had to get away, I had to get out. Then someone on Otholis blew my cover. But I thought it had been too long, I didn't think you ever wanted to see me again. I didn't think I could come home," he explained, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Same code?" he asked again.

"You don't need a code. I never took your ID off," she said.

"Why?" It had been two years, and she had held on this long. Why had she held on for so long?

"Because _I_ thought you _would_ come home," she answered, the tears she had been previously holding back were now sliding freely down her cheeks.


End file.
